La Douleur Exquise
by Saldemar
Summary: (REVOLUTION ON THE HORIZON, AS THE CYBERTRONIAN CIVIL WAR BREWS; ELITA AND MEGATRON CENTRIC)
1. Chapter 1

_my gosh its been so long I missed thissss. hope ya enjoy!_

 _ **Prologue.**_

 _iIi_

" _I don't want to say I was living, because I barely surviving."_

 _\- Barbara Amaya_

iIi

Leaving the Well was something Cybertronians never forgot.

It was their first glimpse into their world, a grand, spectacular moment where everything was new and brilliant and sensory overload was indeed, a possibility.

For some, their journey would land them somewhere within the caste system. As a laborer, clerk, artist. Something.

For others, their journey would be halted by a friendly smile, and an abuse of trust.

I was one of many to be "re-directed" as the Council puts it. One of thousands. Tens of thousands, over the ages. I still wake up in the dead of night, trembling, overheating, barely getting small breaths in and out of my system. It pains, and haunts me to know that so many suffered the way I did.

I can still remember where I was taken, before being knocked into stasis. It was a small area, just off the edge of Tarn. There were these box things, and when I saw them, I knew what was going to happen. I yanked my arm out of his grip, and ran back towards the Well, but I was hit so fast it was like falling into darkness.

I woke up with cuffs on my arms, squished between a mech and another femme, who both had these metallic, silver sheets over their mouths. I can still remember the mech. He was shoulder height, with white armor and yellow accents. He had blue optics, with a ring of white for a pupil. We made optic contact once, and he refused to look at me again.

The femme was smaller, elbow height. She was pale blue, and had solid yellow optics. She had tear tracks down her cheeks, and was trembling so hard that she made a clink clink clink noise.

Squished between them, I could feel all of our sparks pounding. The femmes spark was fast, like a quick vibration alert. _v_.

The mech's spark was strong, and pounded so hard I could feel the vibration bleeding into the crate we were squished into. I could tell we were hooked up to an altmode, and rolling along some highway.

Although I could speak, I hadn't a clue about what to say. And I was too scared to even breath. I felt like I was trying to swallow a marble.

Soon, all we heard was the sound of the mechs who caught us chattering, pounding sparks, labored breathing, and the clink clink clink of the femme's shaking frame.

I felt a liquid dribble down my neck, and realized that swing that took me down earlier, had left a wound. A deep one, just along the back of my helm.

The crate rattled, and we stopped.

We were each yanked up, and rushed into the darkness of a building filled with neon lights and booming music. I stumbled, fell to my knees, and one of the more impatient mechs grabbed me by the neck and and dragged me. I was being choked, and began coughing and spluttering. Eventually my vision swam, and the music faded.

My spark had gone into shock, and I nearly died before my first cube of energon.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Don't let doubt crush you. Cultivate hope, and let it grow.**_

"Tell me what you've done, and I'll consider an, _alliance_ ," he promised, his voice acidic.

I felt small. Like a youngling. And being surrounded by laborer mechs much larger than me, didn't help. The fact Megatronus of _Kaon_ , was staring me right in the optics, nearly petrified me.

"The slaves, they're safe," I said, my optics drifting to look at the weapons each mech held. "The owners are dead."

"Where are the slaves," he asked. "What have you done with them?"

"They're in safe houses," I said, lowering my arms. "Safe, well fed, adjusting to what little freedom I've been able to provide them with."

"I have trouble believing that." He came closer, and I raised my chin, and tried to harden my gaze. "You will take me to a safehouse, or tell me their coordinates. Or else."

"Alright." I broke optic contact, and looked away. I was trembling. He could see it, and I think that some part of him took pity on me.

 _You are Elita of Hydrax. Don't doubt yourself._

I took a breath, and straightened myself. I clenched a fist, and turned around.

"Follow me, I'll take you to my closest Haven. You alone, your mechs will remain on the plateau."

I could hear the energon rushing through my veins, could feel the way my spark contorted, and twisted in its chamber.

It reminded me of when I escaped. I ran, and ran, and my spark was in turmoil. I nearly died. Repeatedly.

 _You aren't running from anything, Elita. If anything, you're leading your people towards a better future… Assuming Megatronus here decides to be your ally. Which he_ will _be._

I swallowed, and remained composed.

As we walked across the Port, I could almost sense the awe spread amongst my crew. In my peripheral, I could see them moving aside, staring, some even rushing into their little cliques to discuss the news.

"That's _Megatronus_ , with _Elita_. Am I seeing things?"

"Oh Primus I think this whole thing is about to be blown wide open."

"Holy frag frag frag frag…"

They all seemed to radiate an excitement. An eagerness, a sudden revelation that there was change on the horizon, that things were picking up speed. That the hope they'd been pushing aside, was getting cultivated, and by Megatronus standing before them, they were being told that no, it wouldn't just wither and die later.

There's no way in hell I'm failing any of them. I don't care if I have to fight Megatronus himself, or sell my spark.

I need to do this. Had to do this.

 _You were sparked for this…_

 _ **You will die for this.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Industrial Accidents**_

Two days before I considered the alliance, five mechas died when a pulley holding a loaded crate of Praxian Crystals fell, crushing them. I wasn't alerted until they already died, and didn't know what to do. All I knew was that it was a tragedy, and we couldn't allow it to happen again. I remember, they lifted the crate up, and it was disgusting. They were crushed flat, and armor was shattered.

I didn't know what to do with the frames.

I mean, I had gotten rid of bodies before. I had to dispose of the bodies of Overseers often, it was my duty. But of laborers? _My_ crew? I couldn't just fling them into a smelting pit. And I couldn't just leave them there. And Tempest was missing.

I decided it would be best to hire someone from a third party to collect the parts, and bury them for me, at the edge of the plateau. They managed to do it the day of, quickly, efficiently. There was no funeral, but I caught sight of a few bots visiting, and leaving ingots of innermost energon at the edge.

That night, a femme knocked at my door. She was elbow height, with broad shoulders and optics like amber. "Miss Elita," she said in greeting, bowing her helm. She paused, and fiddled with her digits.

"My uh...girlfriend died, in the accident. Before she fell, she shoved a newbie to safety, and...I appreciate you decided to give them all a proper burial, it's nice to know she wasn't just ripped apart and distributed, she was a good person. Thank you." I didn't know what to say, but she didn't expect a response. She turned on her heel, and left to the barracks, and I stood at the door like a dumbass until I heard the barrack door clack shut.

So that's what happened when bots died in industrial accidents.

 _Ripped apart and distributed to the masses._

I shut my door, and found myself laying on my berth, staring up into the void.

 _That could have been me._

 _Their years were stolen from them._

Soon, the hollow feeling in my chest twisted into anger.

 _Those crystals are going back to Praxus with the blood of the innocent on them, and nobody's going to give a frag._

 _They should._

The next day, Swindle arrived, and got me drunk enough that I revealed my anger. He told me, there's this mech in Kaon, he's doing great things. He named himself after Megatronus, and he's pushing for revolution. He has most of Kaon under his thumb, maybe you should speak to him. He's also curious about your little _operations_...

I laughed in his face. Yeah. Because _Megatronus_ of _Kaon_ definitely gave a shit about me, and what I was doing. _Totally_. Then I realized, I was drunk.

And This Was Megatronus Of Kaon. And if he was even Looking in my direction, I Was Fragged.

"How much does he know?" I asked, setting my bottle down on my desk.

"Not much," he said, his optics skimming his data pad. "He knows you're paying people to keep their mouths shut, and that whatever you're doing is illicit as hell. But he knows very little about who's alive and who's dead. All he has are unsupported rumors...nothing connected to you, thankfully. But he's poking around, it's only a matter of time."

"By the Primes, kill me now."

"You're Elita, you'll be fine. You should try beating him to the punch, and talk to him yourself. That'll be a first impression, learning _you're_ the ringleader here. A slave turned laborer turned warrior, turned _leader_. You control the Hydrax Plateau, you've got influence. _Your story is his_. You could strike a chord with him. You could be allies…and you have some serious leverage over him, all things considered."

Give it a shot, he said.


End file.
